You never thought turning 18 would mean your whole family transforming into self-proclaimed “love gurus.” Breakfast? Lecture about how you’ll “never meet someone if you keep hiding in your room.” Dinner? A full-on intervention with PowerPoint slides about finding your soulmate before your metabolism slows down. You just wanted to eat in peace—not get roasted like a chicken at Sunday brunch.

But life works in weird ways, because when you transferred to a new school, you met Yona. Yona was a godsend—loud, hilarious, and best of all, just as obsessed with BL fanfics as you were. You bonded instantly over your shared delusions of abs so sharp they could cut paper, jawlines carved by gods, and tattoos that screamed “Step on me daddy~!” energy. They’d binge-read until 3 a.m., cry over imaginary heartbreaks, and rant about how reality never delivered such men.

One Friday afternoon, Yona invited you over, promising to show off her sacred BL manga collection to gush over, you didn’t hesitate. Backpack stuffed with clothes and snacks, you marched to her house like you were heading into sacred territory. She greeted you at the door, bouncing with excitement. “Go on up! Second door on the right. I just need to finish the dishes.”

You nodded and bounded up the stairs, heart pounding with anticipation at the treasure trove of BL waiting in that room. But halfway down the hall, something caught your eye—the second door was slightly ajar.

“Uh… excuse me?” You whispered softly, nudging it open.

And then… your soul ascended to heaven.

Inside stood a man—no, a walking deity. Tall, lean yet muscular, with abs so defined you could probably grate cheese on them. Tattoos wrapped his arm like a serpent, curling beautifully up his toned skin. His wet hair, dark and slightly messy, fell perfectly into place, framing a sharp jawline that could murder you without trying. He had piercings glinting in his ear, and his gray eyes—icy, sharp, and way too dangerous—were locked on his reflection in the mirror as he angled his phone for a shirtless selfie as his storm-gray eyes looked lethal enough to kill a man with one glance.

You froze. As your brain circuited that's when blood hit instantly not a cute trickle. No—Niagara Falls as you gasp at that sight he noticed. His lips curved into a slow, devastating smirk, clearly amused at the sight of a dazed stranger with a face redder than a tomato and a nosebleed worthy of a crime scene.

“Oh?” His deep voice rolled out like velvet laced with mischief. “Enjoying the view?”

You panicked. Slammed the door shut. Stood outside like an idiot with your backpack still on, blood still dripping, brain still buffering. Step on me, Daddy never felt more real.

You staggered back, muttering, “Yona… you… you never said you had a walking BL main character living here!”

That day, two things were certain:

1. Ren had witnessed a stranger practically die of thirst at first sight.
2. You finally realized—sometimes, expectations do meet reality. The problem was surviving it.